


invisible.

by mrspotatohead



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bad Writing, Based on a Twenty One Pilots Song, Best Friends, Crying, Depressed Tyler Joseph, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Angst, Existentialism, Friendship, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Lowercase, M/M, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Sad, Sad Josh, Sad Tyler Joseph, Sad with a Happy Ending, Short, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Touring, im shit at writing but im sad lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:50:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10174199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrspotatohead/pseuds/mrspotatohead
Summary: tyler wants to die, but josh wont let him.tw for suicide attempt stay safe guys!!





	

Big, graceful flakes of snow fell from the starry night sky in peaceful and undisturbed silence.

Tyler didn't even notice until one landed on the tip of his freezing cold nose, where it melted almost immediately. He blinked rapidly and looked up in mild surprise, pulling down his hood so he could feel the cool air on his ears and the gentle breeze on his cheeks. A soft, painful kind of nostalgia filled his chest and he wondered briefly if this was the answer, if this was what he had been searching for.

Was this worth staying alive for?

The wind in his hair, the roses in his cheeks, the way the sky seemed so vast and terrifying and infinite. Like there could be a million different reasons and a thousand different explanations for all of it, for all of humanity. Was that alone a good enough reason to keep existing? Did the universe care whether he lived or died?

He wasn't naive enough to really think that it did, but a cruel kind of hope burned savagely in his chest anyways. He couldn't help his desperate optimism, it had always been one of his biggest weaknesses. Having expectations, having faith, believing that everything would eventually get better - these things were the primary cause of his ultimate downfall.

They were the reason he was standing on a bridge in some unknown town at 11PM with shaking hands and an unsteady heartbeat and a rotten idea infecting his thoughts.

He was too conscious of everything, had been since he was a kid. He was too aware of his own place in the world, he knew exactly what he was and he despised himself for it. He was merely one useless cog in a giant, dying machine. He was an anonymous and faceless person in a never ending crowd of people that were all just like him.

He was no one. He was a nobody. His fumbling hands gripped the rusted black railing so tightly that his knuckles turned taught and white.

He was a social security number and the amount of money he had in the bank. He was the clothes he wore and the shows he played and the face of an overpriced brand. That was all he was. That was his meaning, it was his purpose. That was all that mattered to anybody, but it was okay, it _was,_ because he was living the dream, wasn't he? He had achieved what most musicians never even got a shot at.  He had hit the jackpot. He was lucky.

He hooked one leg over the icy railing, ignoring the gaping chasm of empty numbness that filled his stomach as he did so. He sensed the very fabric of his being disappearing with each passing second. He felt sure, for one fleeting moment, that he was nothing more than a static filled void hanging off the edge of a bridge. Maybe that was what he was, maybe that was his identity.

He couldn't tell anymore.

Snow continued to drift down onto the sidewalk behind him, and he thought vaguely about how deep it would be by tomorrow, when he would be nothing more than a bloated corpse. When they would fish his body out from the freezing cold ocean under an ordinary grey morning sky, when they would all sigh and cry and mutter about what a shame it was to lose someone so young. As if they didn't understand, as if they were immune to the true, cruel nature of life and the way things worked. Maybe they were, maybe some people had that luxury.  Maybe it was just him that was defective and weak and _wrong._

He didn't know. It was the not knowing that got to him the most and it fed off of him day by day, like a blood sucking parasite, draining him of energy and feeling and warmth.

Whether he jumped or not, he knew that either way he would still end up as a shell devoid of anything worth saving. He steadied himself on the slippery ledge, feeling oddly calmer than he ever anticipated he would. For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he needed to do and why. The velvet blue abyss of water below him reflected the soft glow of the moonlight serenely, and he savored the view for a few strained moments, allowing himself to feel comforted by the sight.

"Tyler? What are you doing?" A nervous, familiar voice broke the still tranquility of the night, cutting through the tension like a knife. He inclined his head slightly just in time to see Josh step out of the shadows and into the light, his wide eyes bright and wary in the luminescence.  The look on his face was the exact reason that Tyler had decided not to leave a note. He never wanted anybody to look like that because of him, least of all his best friend.

"How'd you find me?" he asked softly, not even bothering to make an excuse. There was simply no point. Josh knew him far too well and he was far too tired to think up some bullshit lie. It was over. All of it, all of the hiding and the running and the plastic falsity. He was done.

"Because I'm not stupid, and you've been weird lately, and you hugged me for no reason today. It didn't exactly take a genius to figure out what you were doing when you said you were going for a walk," his friend explained, trying to keep his voice light, though it was inflected with a raw type of pain and he sounded seconds away from tears. Tyler felt a jolt of white hot guilt, but didn't say anything. He just licked his lips and stared determinedly forward into the gloom of the night, trying to block the words out.

"Don't do that, don't you ignore me. Just tell me. Tell me what you're doing," Josh continued when he got no response, edging nearer to the railing but still keeping a reasonable distance, like he knew not to get too close. The water below them rippled minutely in the occasional gusts of wind, a silent and watchful observer.

"What's it look like I'm doing, man?" he spat, sounding angrier than he had intended to as his cheeks flushed with sudden shame. He felt like he was five again, like he'd been caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar.

"You tell me," the other man retorted, one eyebrow raised quizzically, though his stance was rigid and his gaze didn't flicker for a minute. He looked ready to lunge forward at any given moment.

"I'm doing what I should've done ages ago, alright? Is that what you want to hear?" Tyler questioned, the words bursting past his lips before he could stop them. He swayed dangerously while his hold on the railings loosened slightly, so he was millimeters away from toppling to his death. His heart didn't give a nervous jolt, he didn't feel anxiety throbbing in his veins - he felt okay. He felt like he was finally finding the answer, like his disillusionment was finally worth something.

There was an awful and lengthy silence, and his voice echoed in the atmosphere between them. It was the kind of silence that felt far too loud and deafening, the type of reverent quietness that filled funeral homes and graveyards and pitiful hospice bedside vigils. After a few more excruciating seconds of it, the patter of hesitant footsteps filled the air. He chanced a glance at his friend to see him standing much closer than before with tears streaming down his pallid face, back lit by a distant streetlamp. Something heavy wrenched in his gut and he felt like he was being torn into minuscule little pieces. This wasn't how he had planned it. It was all going wrong.

"God, Josh...Just don't. Don't cry," he begged weakly, having to look away from his friend so that his face was obscured by shadow. There was no immediate reply, just a weak sob and the sudden rattling of the railing that he was still clinging desperately onto. He looked up quickly in shock to see his friend clambering clumsily over it, so they were both standing right on the edge of the large structure, both one wrong foot away from falling to their demise.

"What the hell are you _doing_? Get back on the other side, Josh, I fucking mean it," he insisted immediately, his face scrunched up in pure indignation. He felt his nerves give a frenzied lurch as he tried to take in the sight of Josh hanging precariously over the edge. Something wet and warm splashed onto his reddened cheek and he realized with a start that he was crying. It was like he'd been shocked back into feeling something, like the deep sorrow inside of him had thawed and cracked ever so slightly in a matter of seconds.

"Come on, Tyler. Talk to me. Please, please talk to me. I'm listening, okay? I'm _listening,_ " Josh whispered, his voice hitching in his throat.

"Stop it! Fucking stop it! Are you actually crazy? Get back over the railing," he all but yelled, unable to tear his gaze away from his friend, his eyes glued to his every movement.

"Not until you talk to me," Josh said simply. "Not until you let it out."

Tyler recognized the look of downright stubbornness on his friend's face and breathed a long, defeated sigh.  His skull was pounding heavily and his thoughts had started to blur together so that they turned into nothing more than a mass of dark, indistinguishable concepts. The snow continued to fall in heavier chunks around them, dampening their hair and clothing, though they were both completely oblivious to its effects, too absorbed in each other and the situation to care.

"I'm invisible," he muttered, so quietly that his voice could've been a paltry whisper on the frosty night breeze.

"What do you mean?" There was no judgement in the other man's tone, just a polite inflection of confusion.

"I mean," Tyler closed his eyes tiredly, and a crease appeared in his forehead. "I mean that I see people everyday, but when do they ever see me?"

"I don't know if you know this, but you're kind of famous, Tyler," There was a suggestion of humour in Josh's voice but no real amusement, and he felt his friend edge a little closer to him on the hazardous ledge that they were both still perched unsafely on. The wind howled lowly in the background, causing the trees in the distance to waver and sway gently, silhouetted against the starry backdrop.

"When do they ever see _me_?" he repeated, almost choking on the sudden lump in his throat. He could feel Josh's harsh gaze burning into the side of his head, and it was clear that the other boy understood exactly what he meant. An unspoken moment of clarity passed silently between them.

"Tyler - the people that really matter know you, I promise they do. They see you. They love you," he answered faintly, trying to keep his voice smooth and comforting though it still held the roughness of emotion around the edges.

"You're wrong, Josh. It isn't working. _I'm_ not working. I don't think I was ever meant to be alive. It's like I've swallowed a cloudy sky," he pressed on, letting more tears spill over his eyes so that they left gleaming tracks on his slightly sunken cheeks. His chest heaved and he whimpered softly in the back of his throat while desperation and despair curdled bitterly in the pit of his chest.

"Don't fucking say that. Don't you ever say that," he replied, glaring at Tyler with a mingled expression of disbelief and sympathy on his face. He took one hand off the black railing and pressed it into his friend's shoulder, trying to lend him the comfort that he so clearly needed. Trying to express what he could not put into words.

"It's the truth," he stated in a resigned sort of way, like he'd come to terms with it, like it was an indisputable fact.

"It's not. I can prove that it's not, Ty. I don't have all the answers, but I can help you. Just come back over the railing with me. We can go back to the bus and I'll make that hot chocolate you like and we can watch some dumb movie. And everything will be _okay,_ " Josh tried to smile, but it felt unnatural and his lips quivered as he tried to hold back another avalanche of tears. There was a beat of hesitant silence, in which they were both at a loss for what to do or say.

"I can't. I can't, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I just have to do this. I have to," he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to envision himself finally stepping over the edge, into the nothingness below. He thought about what would come after. Eternal unconsciousness, spending the rest of forever in peace. His own fucked up idea of heaven.

"You don't have to do anything." There was a note of real hopelessness in his friend's tone. "What about your family? What about Jenna?"

"They'll manage," he shrugged recklessly, not wanting to think about them. Not wanting to think about anything. He couldn't decide if everything hurt too much or not enough, if he was in too much pain of if he was entirely numb.

"Look at me?" Josh asked gently and his voice cracked as he did so.

Tyler looked at the inky, rippling water below.

"Look at me," he repeated, and this time it wasn't a question. Clenching his jaw, he did as he was asked, meeting his friend's hesistant gaze with great difficulty.

"What about me?" Josh questioned, and it was clear that this was what he had really been wanting to ask the whole time. Another impenetrable beat of silence, and another thrill of burning guilt passed over Tyler as he stared at the achingly familiar features of his friend's desolate face.

"You can't guilt trip me into staying alive. You'll be okay," he could barely get the words out.

"That's the thing, Tyler," he muttered, unable to suppress his tears. "I don't think I will be. Listen to me - I need you here.  You can't leave me, not like this. You deserve to be here. _Please._ Just for now, just for today. Please stay."

A clock chimed somewhere in the distance, and a twittering blackbird swooped across the outline of the pale crescent moon.

The murky fog inside of Tyler thickened but something compelled him to turn to his friend so he was facing him properly, his skin chalky white and his hands shaking more than ever. Something inside of him stopped fighting and arguing and resisting and he found that the inside of his head was, for once, blissfully quiet. He jerked his neck, almost managing a nod but not quite, his muscles stiff with the cold.

"I'll help you over first, yeah? Okay?" Josh couldn't keep the flood of relief out of his voice, apparently taking the slight reaction as approval. He reached out and steadied Tyler's thin, quivering frame as the other boy clambered back over the weak railing so it shook severely under his weight, his nose still red and raw from the freezing weather.

Josh climbed over the railing as soon as his friend's feet had hit the frosty sidewalk, and they both avoided looking at each other for a split second, both overwhelmed into utter silence.

Tyler looked up at Josh, at the snowflakes caught in his brightly dyed hair and the way his eyelashes were stuck together from the tears he'd shed, and felt a sudden rush of glorious appreciation and love overtake him completely, and he welcomed the change of heart with open arms, glad that he was able to feel anything at all.

Before either one of them realized what was happening, they both collapsed wearily into each other's arms, holding onto each other in the middle of the pavement as if their lives depended on it. And maybe it really did. They were both shivery and anxious and afraid, but there was a sense of gladness and true hope in the air between them - like a long war had been won, like they were finally home after a long and tiring journey.

As they made their way back to the bus, Tyler leaning heavily against his friend, he only glanced back at the sinister black railing once, feeling a sudden flicker of excitement at the prospect of his wide and open future, while a beaming sense of relief ignited warmly in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> um yea so i can't write lol this isn't good ok but i'm angsty and sad and so i had to write it lol
> 
> hope you liked it!! if you did please PLEASE comment and give a kudos bc it really does motivate me a lot :)


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